


i've got you

by sanktaallina



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, F/M, Masturbation in Shower, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanktaallina/pseuds/sanktaallina
Summary: After an upsetting encounter on the planet you had been hiding on, you take a nice shower and can’t help but to think of the Mandalorian you’ve been living with. And he hears you.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 217





	i've got you

**Author's Note:**

> i just had to write something. i had.

You and Mando walk wordlessly back to the Razor Crest, the Child snuggled into your arms. It’s not normally this quiet. No, normally you would update Mando on the day you’ve had with the Child, and proceed to pester him with questions that he would respond to with more sarcasm than you had expected.

It was a little awkward at times, but it was the norm, and you were used to it. This silence, on the other hand, was suffocating.

You and the Child had been enjoying a meal at the local cantina when a blaster gently kissed the back of your head. You froze, a sinister feeling sitting in your gut.

“Get up.”

You slowly rose, the blaster never leaving your head.

“Grab the kid.”

Your stomach dropped even farther if that was possible. Your one job was to watch over the child while Mando conducted his business. And you had failed.

You slowly walked forward and gently pick up the child, clutching him to your chest. An arm wraps around your collarbones and presses you against an armor-clad body. You’re then guided towards the door of the cantina. You try to make eye contact with the other patrons, a pleading look in your eye. You’re met with apathetic glances and or eyes that quickly looking away. _Figures_. The Child was going to be taken, you were going to die, and Mando would never know.

You squint as the hot sun assaults your eyes. You blink a few times before you notice him. There, just a few meters from you is Mando. You clutch the Child tighter to you. Mando doesn’t say anything. You hear the sound of a blaster and your eyes squeeze shut. The arm around you disappears, and the blaster at the back of your head vanishes. Your eyes stay shut. In fact, they stay shut as you hear footsteps slowly approach. It’s not until a hand lightly rests on your shoulder that your eyes open and you stop shaking.

_How long have you been shaking?_

“Let’s go.” 

Which leads you to where you are now. When you finally reach the Razor Crest, there’s a thick tension in the air. The Child seems to sense it, as he settles into his little nook without a complaint or a struggle. You kiss the top of his head and give him a little smile before the door to his nook slides shut. You straighten and let out a sigh. Mando’s gaze is hot and heavy on your back. You turn around, meeting his gaze.

The tension resurfaces, and it makes itself comfortable as you and Mando stare at each other wordlessly.

It’s you who breaks the silence first.

“Mando, I’m- I didn’t see him enter. And he wanted the child and we almost-“

“Are you okay?” He cuts you off before you can spiral. You blink a few times in response.

“Are you okay?” He repeats, his modulated words honeyed by a tenderness that wasn’t there before. He steps forward, and his gloved hand reaches up to gently hold your arm. You slowly nod. His hand squeezes in reassurance, and you finally comprehend how close he is. You can see your reflection in his helmet, and while you can’t physically see his eyes, he’s looking at you with such intensity that you can feel something snap within you, and a warmth pools in your belly.

“I’ve got you. You and the Child. Don’t forget that.” He releases your arm before heading up to the cockpit.

Your arm burns where his hand was.

__________

You step into the refresher and turn the water on, letting it heat up. You slip out of your clothes before stepping into the shower of water. As you scrub away at your skin, your thoughts drift to Mando.

_I’ve got you._

The words echo in your brain.

_I’ve got you._

_I’ve got you._

_I’ve got you._

Your arm still burns where he held you. The warm feeling floods your body again. Your imagination starts to wander, and you can’t help but imagine the words being repeated under different circumstances. Your hand slowly makes its way down your body, stopping right before you get it where you want it. A strange wave of guilt freezes you. This is Mando, your employer, and friend. For fuck’s sake, you don’t even know what he looks like. Not that it matters. Gods, this probably somehow violates his code. You bite your lip before your hand slips between the lips of your pussy. It’s not like he’ll ever know?

You lean your head against the cool wall and shut your eyes. Your finger rubs circles around your clit, just barely touching it, your other hand trails up your body to pinch one of your nipples. You let out a small sigh before letting your index finger actually touch your clit. You shudder slightly at the contact. You rub small circles against the bundle of nerves as a different wetness joins the water at your thighs. You pinch your nipple again and move your index finger away from your clit, and towards your opening. You insert your finger and let out a small moan. You gently thrust your index finger before letting your middle finger join it. Your hips writhe in an effort to increase the friction. Your thumb to resume the circles on your clit, and you try to stifle the moan that escapes. You lean forward, letting your nipples meet the cool walls, the conflicting temperatures adding fuel to the fire that’s pooling in between your legs.

You wish it was Mando’s fingers inside you. Your eyes squeeze even tighter at the image of him thrusting his fingers into you. Oh, gods, your imagination continues to run wild as you think about what he would say.

_“You look so pretty with your legs spread for me. And fuck, you’re so warm and tight around my fingers. Gotta get you ready for my cock-”_

You can’t help but moan his name as your body continues to writhe against your hand. You think about him driving into you from behind, his cock splitting you open as he whispers words of praise. Fuck, you’re close. The coil that’s been slowly winding in your lower stomach is about to snap.

You wonder what noises he would make when he cums. Has he ever gotten off on the Razor Crest while thinking about you? The thought sends you plummeting over the edge, and you let out a final moan before you ride out your orgasm.

His words echo in your mind.

_I’ve got you._

_I’ve got you._

_I’ve got you._

__________

When you go to join him in the cockpit, the tension from earlier returns. In fact, it’s worsened to the point where you can’t even look at him from the co-pilot’s seat. Your overworked mind keeps searching for other reasons why you both can’t look at each other right now, and you feel your stomach drop. The guilt returns. He knows. He has to know. You moaned his name for fuck’s sake. Did you really think he wouldn’t hear you? Oh, _fuck_. He’s going to fire you, drop you off on the next planet, or -

Your mind quiets when you feel the warmth of his gaze. You hear him shift the Razor Crest into autopilot (He was going to teach you how to fly one day. Too bad you masturbated, called out his name, and now you’re out of the job.)

“Close your eyes.” You squeeze them shut. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ You hear him rise from his chair and take a few steps toward you. The uncertainty of what’s happening makes you panic. You feel a thick piece of fabric being tied around your eyes. _The Child._ Who’s going to take care of the Child while he’s working? Your lips start to tremble. You truly enjoyed this gig, and you’re gonna miss that little monster.

A warm breath fans against your neck, and your breathing stops. You feel a set of plump lips kiss the pulse point on your neck. The Mandalorian is currently kissing your neck, and _his helmet’s off._ Your eyes fly open, and you’re met with darkness. The coil starts to wind.

“Breath, cyar’ika, breath.” You find yourself shuddering at his unfiltered voice. It’s somehow deeper, more melodic. You take a few deep breaths before he speaks again. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you choke out, embarrassed by your eagerness. He chuckles, and you feel your face flush. His lips return to your neck, and his hands lightly hold your sides. Your skin burns. He leaves a trail of kisses up your neck, on your jaw, before kissing the corner of your lips. You turn in an attempt to meet his, and he pulls away. You frown, and your brows furrow.

“Mando, that’s not fair,” you whine. He makes a noise of acknowledgment.

“So is moaning my name while you’re in the refresher.” 

Heat pools in between your legs, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together. You feel his breath fan against your face and you freeze, your eyes needlessly flutter shut behind the blindfold as he gently presses his lips to yours. There’s a heaviness behind it that you can’t explain. Some sort of emotion that will consume you if you acknowledge it. So you don’t. Instead, you lift your hands to cup his face and let out a small moan. Mando takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, and he stands you up. His lips pull away from yours, and you let out a pathetic whimper.

“Just give me a second,” he mutters, and you can essentially hear his eyes rolling. You hear the sound of metal dropping. _His armor._ You begin to lift your tunic up before his hands find yours, and you’re brought to a still. Your hands are on fire.

“Stop.”

“But Mando, don’t you want-” you begin.

“No,” he repeats. “It’s uh- mine.” Embarrassment colors his tone, and all you can think of is the texture of the fabric on your skin. Fuck, you must’ve accidentally kept one of his tunics while you both had been doing laundry. _He likes seeing you in his clothes_ , you realize. The heat continues to gather at the bottom of your stomach.

“But take off your pants,” he continues. You nod slowly, and he makes an approving sound as you follow instructions.

Mando sits down in the seat you were just in and pulls you so you blindly fall onto his lap. His large hands adjust you so you’re straddling him. You brace yourself on his chest, and your hands curl around the fabric they land on. One of his hands holds your hips, and the other cups the side of your face. He pulls you down so your lips meet his own eager ones. You start to grind your hips down into him, and he lets out a moan. You smirk against his lips, enjoying the feeling of grinding on his bulge. His hand moves to squeeze your ass, and the smirk slips from your face. His lips travel back down your neck, leaving little marks, as his hands move your barely clothed pussy against his restrained cock at a steady pace.

“ _Mando_ ,” you moan, and you feel a smirk against your neck. Fuck, you’re absolutely soaking by now. You must be leaving a wet mark on his pants. You’ve never wanted to get fucked more than right now. And to your displeasure, Mando’s hands slow you to a stop, and his lips leave your neck.

“Mando, why did you stop?” you manage to get out in between breaths. You’re met with silence. Silence that lasts too long. You start to squirm against him again before he squeezes your ass in warning.

“I just- I just wanted to look at you.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his answer. The inexplicable heaviness is back. The one you’d like nothing more than to hide from. You wish you could see him too. Fuck the code, fuck everything. You just want to live in this moment with him forever.

He moves his hands to your stomach, and he slides them up under your tunic until they reach your breasts. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you let out a soft moan. Your chest is burning.

“You can keep moving, cyar’ika.” He pinches your nipples to emphasize the point, and your hips rock back to life. Your move to bury your face in the crook of his neck, his stubble scratching the side of your face. Fuck, you wish you could see him.

He plays with your breasts and nipples under your tunic while you grind desperately against him, chasing a release you had already felt earlier. You want nothing more than to cum against him and soak his pants. As if reading your mind, his hands leave your breasts, and he stills you again. Gods, you’re going to kill him. Or that’s what you thought until you feel his hands toying at the thin fabric that’s left in front of your pussy.

“Absolutely soaked,” he says in a proud manner. You feel your face heat up, and you roll your eyes beneath your blindfold.

“Seems like you’re just as bothered,” you mutter, rocking against his bulge for emphasis. He lets out a laugh at that.

“Certainly seems that way, cyar’ika.” You wonder what that means, and why he started calling you it, but the question dies on your tongue as a finger slip against your panties and slide up and down your slit. You bite your lips to stifle a moan as he finds your clit.

“Oh, no. _No, no, no,”_ he says firmly, _“_ After being forced to hear all those choked moans earlier, I want to hear every sound you make.” The finger on your clit begins to make tight circles. You grip his shoulders and throw your head back and moan loudly.

“See, was that so hard?” You’d roll your eyes if not for the fact that one of his other fingers is slowly pushing into you.

“Fuck,” you cry out. His finger is large, way thicker than yours, and you can’t help but grind into his hand, all while his other finger continues its unrelenting pace on your clit. He starts to lightly thrust his hand into you. “Mando, more _please_ ,” you beg. He gives into you immediately. How could he not?

Now, this was much better. Much better than anything you could’ve imagined. He thrusts his fingers up into you, his pace increasing as you feel yourself getting more and more wound up. You writhe against his hand, chasing the dizzying, mind-numbing orgasm you’ve been dreaming about. 

“Mando,” you choke out, “I’m gonna cum soon.” His fingers curl to a spot that sends your mind reeling from pleasure.

“Cum when you need to. I’ve got you.”

With that, he pinches your clit, and you explode. You are on fire, but you’ve always been burning. Your thighs shake, and white-hot pleasure courses through your veins. You cling to his body as you writhe against his hand. His fingers continue to slowly thrust into you, letting you ride your orgasm to its completion. Eventually, his hand stills and pulls away.

Your eyes widen in the darkness as you hear the unmistakable sound of him sucking his fingers. The lewd noises go straight to your core. The coil begins to wind. Again.

You lean back from his chest, and fumble blindly for the fastens on his pants, and his hands bring you to a stop. He takes one hand and tangles your fingers together. The other hand he brings to his lips, where he lightly kisses it before pressing it against his face. You let yourself stay like this, just for a moment. Just for a moment, you can pretend he’s not your employer and that you both exist in a world where these impossible feelings can see the light of day.

You eventually move to pull your hands away. The gesture, while impossibly sweet, is stopping you from getting fucked by what, based on his bulge, you imagine to be a large, thick cock. 

“But Mando,” you murmur, moving to palm him through his pants, “I wanna make sure you cum too.” His hips stutter against your hand, and you smirk.

“Are you sure?” You can tell he’s already given in. He doesn’t stop you from releasing the fastens on the front of his pants.

“It’s a two-way street, Mando.” He lets out a choked sound as your hand finally makes contact with his cock. Your thumb brushes over the tip and smears the precum that’s already spilling.

_“I’ve got you.”_


End file.
